


let it fall, let it linger

by pomme (manta)



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Cohabitation in St Petersburg, Domestic, M/M, Post Ep 12, Vignettes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-13
Updated: 2017-02-13
Packaged: 2018-09-22 17:06:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 901
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9617141
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/manta/pseuds/pomme
Summary: On reciprocity and appreciation.





	

**Author's Note:**

> HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO THE ONE AND ONLY ORIE(WL)! 
> 
> here's a humble gift! it's not valentine's day themed and will pass quietly through the sea of fic, but i do hope your wonderful, talented, adorable self likes it.
> 
> i love our chats and i'm glad to be your friend. wishing you a great day!!!
> 
> (note: yuuri = katsuki yuuri, yuri = yuri plisetsky)

Viktor wakes to the sounds of clinking mugs and muted humming.

He smiles into his pillow. Viktor's usually the first to rise on the mornings they train, but on the days they sleep in, Yuuri beats him to the kitchen.

Viktor had mentioned his favorite type of coffee to Yuuri as an offhand comment, which Yuuri somehow remembered and attempted to make. The first few experiments had tasted, frankly, terrible. But Yuuri persisted, as he does with the things that matter to him, until he had the art down to a science— or perhaps, the science down to an art.

It's true Viktor doesn't really bother with details in the first place; heaven knows Yuuri knows that well enough, what with Viktor's generous spending habits and his tendency to change his mind like a shifting breeze.

But Viktor likes to think trusting Yuuri with breakfast is part of what _absolute faith_ means, right down to what gets them going in the mornings.

 

* * *

 

The usual early bustle has also awoken Makkachin, who's been served breakfast by the time Viktor waltzes in.

"Good morning," Yuuri says rather distractedly, eyes trained on the sizzling pan.

"Good morning," Viktor sings, and begins pulling out the dishes and cutlery.

When the sirniki are ready, Yuuri spoons them into the plates waiting at the counter. It's Viktor's duty to take them to the table, along with the coffee mugs.

The apartment used to seem drab, drafty, cavernous, echoing Viktor's inner sentiments. Now all that airiness echoes with possibility, and not just because the rooms now contain a jumble of _two_ people's possessions.

Seated at the opposite ends of the table Viktor had pulled out to make room for two, they eat and talk. Though to be precise, it's mostly Yuuri who talks, detailing his night out with Georgi in the city; Viktor's content to listen, his crossed right foot making slow journeys up and down Yuuri's leg.

 

* * *

 

Viktor's happiest when they're together. Which is most of the time, and that means Viktor's happier than ever.

Today's a lazy day indoors, and he doesn't need Yuuri for anything in particular. It's Yuuri's presence he wants to bask in— Yuuri's lap as he reads, Yuuri's neck to kiss when he walks by, Yuuri to rest against as they plan a routine.

This new life has become the everyday. But Viktor still clearly remembers when the table was pushed against the kitchen counter as a makeshift bar for one, when what little light that managed to shine through the frosted windows turned the table's wooden surface into a smoky grey sheen.

Those are the moments when he needs to pull Yuuri close.

Viktor doesn't fear returning to what was. Rather, it's the sense that what he has now fills him fit to burst, and like a wine that grows full-bodied with time, he wants to savor the taste for a long, long while.

 

* * *

 

Yuri arrives promptly for dinner, covered in a fine dusting of snow and grumbling, as usual, with no real bite.

Viktor considers praising his much improved finesse with chopsticks, thanks to Yuuri's patient tutelage. But best to stay silent when the air is filled with the content noises of hot food consumed in bitterly cold weather, punctuated by Yuri talking with his mouth full.

"Beka's coming next week," and Yuri can't hide his grin. "I haven't figured out where to take him. Where would a guy like him go?"

"Places you'd want to go, probably," Yuuri muses, hand on chin. "You're pretty alike."

"Yeah?" Yuri's taken aback, eyes wide. But he rebounds, poorly concealing something akin to pride. "I mean- uh. Sure."

Yuuri wipes his mouth, obscuring his smile. "Didn't you say he DJs for fun?"

"Yeah. So, somewhere with good music. We could skate a bit, too."

"He'd like that," Yuuri agrees. "If I was visiting St Peterburg for the first time, I'd visit the rink."

Yuri snorts, moving his hands to allow Makkachin to rest his head on his knee. "Of course _you_ would."

"I would," Yuuri repeats, unfazed. He doesn't look at Viktor, but slides his hand under the table to rest on Viktor's knee. "I can't imagine being anywhere else."

 

* * *

 

"You were quiet tonight," Yuuri says later, like an invitation.

"Was I?" Viktor blinks, still adjusting to the darkness. Yuuri's nearer to the light switches, and doesn't always warn Viktor when he's about to turn them off.

"Even Yurio noticed. That's why dinner was more peaceful than usual."

"What? Peaceful, when he's around to keep things lively?"

Yuuri nestles deeper into the blankets, wincing at the cold. Viktor waits to make sure he's settled before speaking again. "I was just thinking," and Viktor moves closer to loop his arm around Yuuri's waist, "Well, no. I wasn't really thinking."

"Not your strong suit." Yuuri's hand closes over Viktor's.

"I was just enjoying the moment." Viktor means dinner, but he means the other moments today as well, and endless other moments. Moments upon moments that, at times, he almost can't believe are real. Moments like this, with Yuuri against his chest: warm, close, _here_.

"Mm." Yuuri's answer is an affirmation, a turn, arms encircling Viktor's neck, a firm press of lips on lips. Yuuri's wearing an oversized shirt, and Viktor can feel both his heat and ice as Yuuri says, "And now?"

Viktor laughs, and raises his chin to kiss Yuuri's forehead. "Of course. Always."

 

 


End file.
